Page 268 of Hot Mess
We felt like a band, already.
Definitely boded well for our potential. All we needed to do was commit to it, hone this shit into some songs of your own… and get a killer drummer and a guitarist to join us.
The talents of Dylan and Jesse helped, of course, but Matt held his own and then some. He was in this to win. He’d slayed it on bass.
“Can I just have you all?” I asked into my mic, and Jesse laughed. The point was to hear Matt today, but shit, we’d all sounded great together.
Too bad Jesse Mayes and Dylan Cope weren’t exactly up for grabs. Zane would find a way to smother me in my sleep if I even tried.
One thing playing with Jesse proved to me, though? I especially liked having a wicked-strong guitarist in the lineup besides myself. Janner was never the world’s most outstanding guitarist to begin with, and he’d never played any lead with the Pushers. In reality, I probably would’ve preferred someone who could trade up lead parts with me.
So maybe that was what I’d just have to go out and look for, going forward.
No more compromises.
Which was why we needed Matt Brohmer on bass.
I’d never really had any doubts about him as a bandmate, musically or professionally. And getting together to play with him like this only backed up what we’d hoped: that he was the right bassist for us.
Shitty thing, then, that I’d never quite shaken thatotherthing.
Maybe I’d been trying to forget about it… But being in a room with him again only made it uncomfortably obvious to me that I was never gonna forget that time Matt kissed me.
I glanced over at him. He wasn’t looking at me. All day, he’d been nothing but professional. No awkward vibes or weird glances at all.
But I knew he wasn’t exactly gonna forget that I’d kissed him back.
Or that I’d turned him down.
I looked over at Dylan as he came out from behind his drums. He gave Summer a sweaty hug, and she smiled at me over his shoulder. Then he swept Matt up in a hug. “Well done, man.”
“I’ll step out so you guys can talk,” Jesse said, giving Matt a little fist tap on the shoulder.
“Me too.” Dylan slapped my back as he followed Jesse offstage. Then the two of them disappeared out the front of the church.
I took off my guitar, laid it down in its case, and turned to Matt and Summer. Of course, we’d already talked. A lot. The three of us had hung out for hours today before we’d even gone near the stage.
Matt set down his bass. Summer was still standing behind her keys, hands on hips, as she beamed her smile at us.
“Happy?” I asked her.
“Very.”
“Yeah?” Matt said. “So am I in or what?”
“Uh, yeah, you’re in,” Summer said. She came around to perch on one of the tall stools on the stage. “As far as we’re concerned…” She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. “You’re already in.”
“This isn’t really an audition, Matt,” I said. “We want you in the band.”
“Cool.” He smiled. “And I want to be wanted, so…”
“You’re fucking ace on that bass,” Summer said. “We already knew that. And we like your style, obviously.”
“Summer did some serious research,” I told him. “Think we listened to every recording you’ve ever played bass on.”
“Wow,” he said. “That’s a commitment.”
“Yeah, we’re thorough like that,” she said. “The first thing I thought after I’d listened to all those songs, plus that playlist you made for us? ‘This dude’s a fucking deviant, for sure.’”
